"I dare say he did. I don"t gainsay it, Captain, but I don"t know where he has gone."
"But _I_ will know," cried the captain, striking his hand upon the table and making every gla.s.s and plate jump thereon. "I will have no tricks played here without my consent. Am I your master, or are you all mine?"
And here, we regret to say, Captain Guy swore a good deal, and became perfectly unheroic and inelegant and unromantic. But his oaths had more effect upon his unruly followers than his protests, and they sat looking at him in a half-sullen, half-shamefaced manner, and would have probably succ.u.mbed to his influence had not attention been diverted and aroused by the reappearance of Stango, who staggered in with four or five great black bottles heaped high in his arms. A tremendous shout of applause and delight heralded his return to the parlour.
"We have been treated scurvily, my men," cried Stango, "exceedingly scurvily; the best and strongest stuff in the cellar has been kept back from us. It"s excellent--I"ve been tasting it first, lest you should all be poisoned; and there"s more where this come from--oceans more of it!"
"Hurrah for Stango!"
The captain"s voice was heard once more above the uproar, but it was only for a minute longer. There was a rush of six men toward Stango; a shouting, scrambling, fighting for the spirits which he had discovered; a crash of one black bottle to the floor, with the spirit streaming over the polished boards, and the unceremonious tilting over of the upper part of the supper-table in the ruffians"
wild eagerness for drink.
"To horse, to horse, men! Have you forgotten how far we have to go?" cried the captain.
But they had forgotten everything, and did not heed him. They were drinking strong waters, and were heedless of the hour and the risks they ran by a protracted stay there. In ten minutes from that time Saturnalia had set in, and pandemonium seemed to have unloosed its choicest specimens They sang, they danced, they raved, they blasphemed, they crowed like c.o.c.ks, they fired pistols at the chimney ornaments, they chased the maidservants from one room to another, they whirled round the room with Mrs. Tarne and Mrs.
Pemberthy, they would have made a plunge at Sophie Tarne for partner had not the captain, very white and stern now, stood close to her side with a pistol at full c.o.c.k in his right hand.
"I shall shoot the first man down who touches you," he said, between his set teeth.
"I will get away from them soon. For heaven"s sake--for mine--do not add to the horror of this night, sir," implored Sophie.
He paused.
"I beg your pardon," he said, in a low tone of voice, "but--but I am powerless to help you unless I quell these wolves at once. They are going off for more drink."
"What is to be done?"
"Can you sing, Mistress Pemberthy?"
"Yes, a little; at least, they say so," she said, blushing at her own self-encomium.
"Sing something--to gain time. I will slip away while you are singing, and get the horses round to the front door. Do not be afraid."
"Gentlemen," he cried, in a loud voice, and bringing the handle of his pistol smartly on the head of the man nearest to him to emphasise his discourse, "Mistress Pemberthy will oblige the company with a song. Order and attention for the lady!"
"A song! a song!" exclaimed the highwaymen, clapping their hands and stamping their heels upon the floor. And then, amid the pause which followed, Sophie Tarne began a plaintive little ballad in a sweet, tremulous voice, which gathered strength as she proceeded.
It was a strange scene awaiting the return of Reuben Pemberthy, whose tall form stood in the doorway before Sophie had finished her sweet, simple rendering of an old English ballad. Reuben"s round blue eyes were distended with surprise, and his mouth, generally very set and close, like the mouth of a steel purse, was on this especial occasion, and for a while, wide open. Sophie Tarne singing her best to amuse this vile and disorderly crew, who sat or stood around the room half drunk, and with gla.s.ses in their hands, pipes in their mouths, and the formidable, old-fashioned horse-pistols in their pockets!
And who was the handsome man, with the long, black, flowing hair, and a pale face, standing by Sophie"s side--his Sophie--in a suit of soiled brocade and tarnished lace, with a Ramilie c.o.c.ked hat under his arm and a pistol in his hand? The leader of these robbers, the very man who had stopped him on the king"s highway three hours ago and taken every stiver which he had brought away from Barnet; who had, with the help of these other scoundrels getting mad drunk on his brandy, taken away his horse and left him bound to a gate by the roadside because he would not be quietly robbed, but must make a fuss over it and fight and kick in a most unbecoming fashion, and without any regard for the numbers by whom he had been a.s.sailed.
"I did not think you could sing like that," said the captain, quietly and in a low voice, when Sophie had finished her song, and a great shout of approval was echoing throughout the farm and many hundred yards beyond it.
"You have not got the horses ready," said Sophie, becoming aware that he was still at her side. "You said--you promised--"
"I could not leave you while you were singing Did you know that was my mother"s song?"
"How should I know that?"
"No--no. But how strange--how--ah! there is your brother at the door. I have had the honour of meeting Master Pemberthy of Finchley earlier this evening, I think. A brave young gentleman; you should be proud of him."
"My bro--oh! it is Reu. O Reu, Reu, where have you been? Why did you not come before to help us--to tell us what to do?" And Sophie Tarne ran to him and put her arms round his neck and burst into tears. It was not a wise step on Sophie"s part, but it was the reaction at the sight of her sweetheart, at the glimpse, as it were, of deliverance.
"There, there, don"t cry, Sophie; keep a stout heart!" he whispered.
"If these villains have robbed us, they will not be triumphant long. It will be my turn to crow presently."
"I--I don"t understand."
"I can"t explain now. Keep a good face--ply them with more drink--watch me. Well, my friends," he said, in a loud voice, "you have stolen a march upon me this time; but I"ve got home, you see, in time to welcome you to Maythorpe and share in your festivity. I"m a Pemberthy, and not likely to cry over spilled milk. More liquor for the gentlemen, you wenches, and be quick with it. Captain, here"s to you and your companions, and next time you catch a Pemberthy.
thy, treat him more gently in return for a welcome here. More liquor, girls; the gentlemen are thirsty after their long ride."
Reuben drank to the healths of the gentlemen by whom he was surrounded; he was very much at home in his own house, very cool and undismayed, having recovered from his surprise at finding an evening party being celebrated there. The highwaymen were too much excited to see anything remarkable in the effusion of Reuben Pemberthy"s greeting; these were lawless times, when farmers and highwaymen were often in accord, dealt in one another"s horses, and drove various bargains at odd seasons and in odd corners of the market-places; and Reuben Pemberthy was not unknown to them, though they had treated him with scant respect upon a lonely country road, and when they were impressed by the fact that he was riding homeward with well-lined pockets after a day"s huckstering. They cheered Mr. Pemberthy"s sentiments, all but the captain, who regarded him very critically, although bowing very low while his health was drunk.
"My cousin and my future bride, gentlemen will sing you another song; and I don"t mind following suit myself, just to show there is no ill feeling between us; and our worthy captain, he will oblige after me, I am sure. It may be a good many years before we meet again."
"It may," said the captain, laconically.
"I--I cannot sing any more, Reuben," cried Sophie.
"Try, Sophie, for all our sakes; our home"s sake--the home they would strip, or burn to the ground, if they had only the chance."
"Why do you wish to keep them here?" Sophie whispered back to him.
"I was released by a troop of soldiers who were coming in this direction," he said, hurriedly. They have gone on toward Finchley in search of these robbers, but, failing to find them, they will return here as my guests till morning. That was their promise."
"Oh!"
Sophie could not say more. Reuben had left her side, and was talking and laughing with Stango as though he loved him.
"Your sweetheart, then, this c.o.c.k o" the game?" said the captain to Sophie, as he approached her once more.
"Yes."
""I had need wish you much joy, for I see but little toward it,"
as the poet says," he remarked, bluntly. "He will not make you a good husband."
"You cannot say that."
"It"s a hard face that will look into yours, mistress, and when trouble comes, it will not look pleasantly. You are going to sing again? I am glad."
"You promised to go away--long since."
"I did. But the host has returned, and I distrust him. I am waiting now to see the end of it."
"No--no--I hope not. Pray go, sir."
"Is there danger?"